


Feed Me

by CuddlyCorpse



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: 80's horror shlock, Alternate Universe - Horrortale (Undertale), Blood and Gore, Depictions of Death, F/M, Hate to Love, It Gets Better, It gets bad, Police corruption, Reader is a cop, Symbiotic Relationship, Therapy, Violence, barrier break, fine blue line, food obsessed, human bigotry, human kindness, it gets bad again, more tags to come as things pan out., pet eating, reader is female, reader is fucking sick of this shit, touch starved, trigger warnings in the future
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-03-07 01:38:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18863119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuddlyCorpse/pseuds/CuddlyCorpse
Summary: You are a police officer who is striving to find your place on the Homicide unit. After a long day at work, dealing with traffic stops and chauvinists at work, you find yourself at home, settled across from your captive.Sans the Skeleton was apprehended while devouring your neighbor's dog, and now is dealing with being trapped away in your basement.He's still hungry.Note: Triggerwarnings are abound, but you'll always find your warnings in notes at the beginning of the chapter, or even in the summary. Please keep an eye out for them so as to know if you should skip or not.Note 2: Horrortale characters, but the story's a bit different? Eh, dunno if I should make my own au for it or not; you tell me?Setting is very 80s because I'm a stupid butt for that 80s thriller shtuff.And I'm not even hiding the fact that this is inspired by Little Shop of Horrors.





	1. Skeleton In Her Basement

Life had a funny way of coming up with neat and interesting ways to keep you on your toes. This was no different, and you imagined that your course of actions here would decide what happened from here on.

 

You sat with your legs sprawled forward and crossed at the ankle. You were a good ways away from the thing you had handcuffed to one of the sturdier pipes in your basement, and looking it over you found yourself perplexed at what you were seeing.

 

A Skeleton. And yet, it wasn't a skeleton all the same.

 

Skeletons, for one thing, were not quite as thickly built with bones that looked more like bleached fossils than bone itself. This thing was immense, and held the kind of weight that caused the handcuffs to scrape and rattle against the pipe as it rocked on it's heels. This... person? Was dressed in clothes that had seen better days. A faded blue hoodie with torn cuffs dangled from the shoulders that were slightly arched upwards due to the fact that you had chained it's arms up over it's head. You had made a decision to cuff through those sturdy bones, knowing that trying to break out of the cuffs would be far harder to do if you looped the things through the ulna. It seemed to realize that, because it wasn't struggling against it's binds as much as it was testing the carrying capacity of the pipe you'd cuffed it to.

 

“so, what're we doin' here, pig?” the voice startled you. A talking skeleton, and based on that deep, grating, gravelly baritone, you were going to guess a male. You weren't a med student, you couldn't tell a male body from a female, and you weren't about to strip this thing down for fear of what you might see hiding in that ribcage. There was blood smattering the dingy white shirt HE wore, and the cuts in the abdomen showed you nothing but the darkness beneath. As if he were shadow bodied under it all. So, you weren't brave enough in your medical knowledge to open him up and have a look. “it's a bit rude to keep a guest bound up in, what is this, your basement?” he cocked his head to one side, rictus grin widening slightly as a result of his blatant amusement at your attempts at keeping him confined.

 

“What are you?” you questioned calmly, doing your best 'good cop' voice.

 

You had only been on the beat for two years before this happened, before you found this creature rooting around in a doghouse and--- well, your neighbor's kids were going to be upset in the morning. You'd tasered him, and at first it didn't work, but when you focused all of your desire for him to be stunned, it seemed to do the job. Maybe you upped the output just a little, but that was your own secret to take to your grave. You had dealt with robbers before, routine traffic stops, a few drug busts... but this was different. Animal cruelty wasn't something that you had the habit of dealing with, but strange persons acting strangely? Yeah, that was what you were stuck with.

 

You were an ambitious person, desiring to get on Homicide to help put families at ease and close cold cases, and yet here you were, technically holding someone hostage.

 

The silence between you was tense, and you could hear him clicking his teeth, not unlike the click of a metronome keeping beat to a piano lesson. It was sharp, staccato that frayed your nerves. He eventually took a breath- did he need to breathe?- and began to speak to you.

 

“a monster. i guess i shouldn't be too shocked y'don't know about us. the barrrier's only just been broken,” he said this in a manner that bothered you, mostly because the clicking stopped and his tight smile only served to widen at you.

 

“Us?” you questioned, staring him down.

 

“yes, us. my entire race is waiting for me back at the caves to tell them whether or not it's safe,” he was a scout, apparently. You considered what that could possible mean, an entire race of skeletons waiting for him to give the all clear?

 

You had heard the urban legends growing up in Ebott. The tales of people going missing, disappearing into the woods or being spirited away for whatever reason. People said that it was the curse of the mountain, and one had to wonder, were these people the curse of the mountain? What had been unleashed in the time that you'd been on the job?

 

Thinking about it now, you remembered seeing the missing persons posters spattered around the bullpen at work. Ebott City was one of the most prominent in the country with the highest percentage of missing persons. Some of these were children that had, apparently, run away from their foster families. Death in the woods was a better option than whatever terrible home lives they ended up with living in the system.

 

“So they're waiting on you. Why were you eating my neighbor's dog?” you questioned, and heard him laughing lowly at you.

“well, clearly that means i'm hungry, don't you think? we've been down there starving for.... mmh,” he lifted up onto his tiptoes to scratch at the hole in his head. “sorry, i can't remember, seems there's a hole where that memory should be,” he said with a wicked grin.

“So how did this barrier of yours break?” you questioned then. He groaned a bit, leaning his head back briefly before he leaned forward. He had nothing keeping his joints from rolling around completely, and yet somehow he was held together. He leaned far enough that he loomed down into your face.

“why are you so curious, piglet? i mean, honestly, it's no skin off your nose, and it's a boring story...”

 

“I like boring stories.”

“i don't have time for this, human,” he hissed at you.

“That's too bad, isn't it?” you commented with a kind smile, “I need answers or I can't let you go, that's just how it goes.”

“i'm hungry, still,” he commented lowly.

“You don't have a stomach,” you reasoned, and he spat some bizarre, black substance in your face. You wiped your cheek and glared at him with the same weight and heat behind his stare.

“i'm not like the skeleton you have under your skin, little pig. i'm not held back by your fleshy constraints, but i still have needs. the dog wasn't enough, and there's... so much more magic up here.”

 

Magic? Your confusion caused him to utter irritation at you, kicking and shaking, rattling his bones in a mad attempt to snap his bracelets. “if i tell you what you want to know, you'll let me go?” he said, thinking about it out loud. If he could buy time and let the magic just seep into his body from the surrounding area... he could just shortcut home.

“Yes.”

“....okay then... you asked for it, piggy..”

 


	2. Bound Bones Storytime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a cop learns about the underground.
> 
> And a brand new diet plan.
> 
> sorta kinda Sans POV.
> 
> OH ALSO: TW: Sans recounts his experience with the neighbor dog...

The barrier had finally come down, and feeling of rush of magic hitting them in the night air did wonders to their failing bodies. Most of them looked to Sans and Papyrus, and seeing as they were still well and deep in the woods, there were plenty of animals to drag back. Which was what they had done. It felt good to draw naturally from the world around them again, and while the starving hundreds ate the small herd of deer fully raw, they still longed for more. Papyrus had attempted to get Sans to eat, they needed the energy for what they had to do next. Sans, however, encouraged Papyrus to eat his share, because ultimately, he could do without. He'd done this for a long time, though, gone without to let his brother have extra and simply pick at whatever remained. Some of the monsters had come about to calling him the Carrion King with that mindset, because by the time he got to eat anything, it was usually a festering mess.

 

In the end, he was volunteered to go. With his ability to simply appear wherever, it was only natural that he would be the first to head on and see what exactly they were dealing with. Humans had, and always would be a skittish race. So, it was only right that Sans scout out to see how much things had changed.

 

It wasn't his fault that his hunger finally caught up to him. Wasn't his fault the dog tried to attack him. Wasn't his fault he split the dog like a pinata to eat the sticky candy inside.

 

It wasn't his fault you had caught him.

 

His natural reaction to the first attempt at tazing him had been to laugh. A human thought electricity would do something to a thing like him. He didn't have nerves! The look in your eye as you upped the ante with every **intention** of putting him down was what did it, though. The intent to knock him unconscious, the intent to force him to drop everything.

 

You had undoubtedly given the poor mutt a proper burial, you just seemed like that sort of person, but Sans could put two and two together when he came out of his electricity induced slumber- which by the way was a **shocking** revelation to him. You smelled like blood and earth, and that's all he needed to know to tell him you'd hidden the remains. He would have groaned if he had the ability at present, but just waking, he found his voice wasn't entirely functional. All of that wasted meat, gone forever and tainted with dirt. It was a shame, and his innards screamed at him for the amount of hunger he was struggling with.

 

He was semi-cooperative through your entire shitshow of an interrogation. He had very little faith in your ability to play bad cop, because you were left thoroughly unrattled by his prodding at being called a pig. Perhaps cops were used to it? Although, he wasn't calling you a pig because you were a cop, he didn't even know that what with your civilian clothes.

 

He was calling you that because humans had that lovely, bacony fragrance that was currently driving him insane- or, more so than he was earlier today. You wanted to hear the story, and he wasn't keen on telling you. He debated making things up to move shit along, and after trying the cuffs again, he gave in and set to speaking.

 

“my people have been trapped underground for... if i knew the year, i'd tell you proper, but by our guestimations.... a long fuckin' time. for a while things were really bad, we lost a good chunk of our population in the war and it took a long time for us to recover in that prison beneath the mountain. i had to have just been a kid back then...” he stared into space, remembering how he held the hand of a larger monster as they trudged deeper into the blackness of the cave. Some of them had been able to keep their spirits up, but others dusted simply due to the grief of knowing none of them would ever see the sun again.

 

Knowingly, he left that part out.

 

“The war was a few hundred years ago...Why were you sealed in the mountain to begin with?” you asked him, and it yanked him out of his long forgotten memory. He was drooling, and if you minded, you didn't show it. He looked you over with all of the hunger of a starved dog, but eventually, he relented the information.

 

“i've read books about your human history going on while we were down there. seems durin' the dark ages and on you weren't exactly keen on the whole magic thing. i mean for fuck's sake, piggy, you all burned innocent ladies at the stake, hung 'em, drowned up, all that nonsense because you thought they was witches.”

 

You seemed to concede to this fact, humans had been scared of magic at one point, but now... “People try and practice magic these days,” your words shocked him more than your taser did earlier, because he jolted back slightly and stared at you as if you'd become a hellfire breathing hydra. That was impossible, humans despised magic. It was different, it was powerful, it was....scary. And you, YOU expected him to believe that people tried practicing it?!

 

And then it occurred to him.

 

“you didn't know there were monsters in the mountain, but you knew about the war?” he questioned suspiciously.

“We were taught the war was to drive natives out of the area for settlers to take in,” you responded with a look that made his soul ache. You... sweet smelling, tender fleshed, delectable you... looked guilty. It dried Sans's mouth up horribly as he considered that you felt responsible for his suffering and you weren't even a glimmer in your great grandpappy's eye yet. He stared at you for a long moment, ignoring the angry grinding of his unseen gut.

 

“i'm getting away from the topic at hand, aren't i?” he mumbled, and you nodded. “like i said before, things were bad, but they got better. a whole lot better. we recovered from the loss of life, and our population started to grow a bit, but the confines of our magic prison kind of made it hard for us to go much further. at some point it became illegal to have children, that was right after my little brother came around.... uh, anyway, at some point it was decided that we needed to focus on breaking the barrier, and we got close, once. all of that work was for nothin' though. a human came down, whittled our numbers back down to maybe a hundred people... and then they just... left.”

 

He ground his teeth and rattled the bracelets again before he eased back to lean on the wall behind him. Sans was growing impatient, he needed to get home, but sucking in magic like a sponge from his surrounding area was a lot harder than just eating. Eating brought it quicker and in higher doses. He leaned his skull on the back wall, his chest rising and falling with a heavy, semi-defeated sigh. “after the kid left, things went from bad to worse. the royal family had a hard shift in it, i guess you could say it was a shamily now, because our current reigning queen is a sham.” He looked to you as if he thought that would have made you laugh. You didn't. You were all business right now, and had no time for his shenanigans.

 

“when the famine started, you know, we all sort of pitched in to ration our food out in some hopes to survive a little longer. when the food ran out, madness took hold, no thanks to our illustrious queen.” His words were bitter, venomous even. “so, we had to go back to trying to break the barrier, and we got back to the point we'd left off at, only this time it was me doing all of the work because our dearest queen couldn't keep a soul intact if it meant her life depended on it. she's too rough and heavy handed to handle something like that.”

 

“It takes souls?” oh, he must have let it slip.

“yes, human souls, very specific human souls with human traits to break through the barrier.” He was being purposefully vague, the last thing he needed was to go off on a tangent of why that was. “you gonna keep interruptin', piglet? we're almost done with the story.”

 

You bit your tongue, he could tell because your jaw shifted and you made a face. Oof, you were cute when you were frustrated. Pin that to his memory for later.

 

“as you probably guessed, it took us killing the human in order for us to get the soul. up until that point, my job was simply judge, i was supposed to weigh a person's sin's to their actions, and, it never added up to them deserving it, but times had changed, times were different. we were starving. once they were gone, i got the soul, put it away like i was supposed to, but that left the carcass, now didn't it? somethin' fun for you, human, did you know that a human soul has a whole lot of magic in it? but because you folks are so detached from your souls these days it's impossible to tap into. however, just having had a soul in the body leaves a whole lot of magic in your meat.”

 

“You mean to tell me you killed and ate people to survive and break the barrier...” you sounded unbelieving, but his bitter, wrapping grin told you he was being truthful. “So, you need magic to survive, and magic food helps, right?”

“you could put it that way, i guess, if it's easier to swallow. the point is we're out now, and everyone up there is hungry, and if i don't come back, you might have monsters down here eating more than just your neighbor's dog. i was trying to be nice.”

“OH, yeah, I'm sure, cause eating a pet is a nice thing to do.”

“better than eatin' the fat little man watching tv in on the other side of the patio screen... that was an option, too.”

 

“Where are your people now?”

“the north side of the mountain face where the hill dips in to a cave." You knew the place, he could tell. You lifted to your feet and moved up the stairs where you could grab hold of your kitchen phone. He watched you toy with the cord as you called work.

 

“Hey, Clarkson, we have a situation at the north face of the mountain near the caves...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear, that was a lot to swallow, huh?
> 
> Y'all know the drill by now; for updoots and art:  
> https://ahouseinthewoods.tumblr.com


	3. Bleeding Hearts of the World: UNITE!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok so a little note before I put a summary: I realized while writing this chapter that I'm not 100% sure tazers were a thing in the 80s, so I did some lookin' up and apparently, development began in 69 and were classified as a firearm in '74. So this is me doublechecking to make sure I didn't screw up on a thing, but in case you were curious, there's that.
> 
> So, uh, summary time: You give Sans the low-down on the down-low and also feed him the good shit.

You weren't sure when it ended up like this, sitting across from him with a plate of food in your hand, gradually feeding him. It was clear he would have much rather been feeding himself, but he wasn't going to complain. Food was food was food was food, and he was short of licking the plate clean like a mutt trying to help with the dishes. He wasn't a big help because that huge, wet tongue left trails of saliva like slug slime across the plate. You were kind to him, doing your best to give him water on top of the meal you'd given him. He wanted to tell you that it wasn't enough, but he refrained...for now. He'd make you feel guilty later and get something out of you, surely.

 

The call you'd made to your partner had been brief, but he had called you back within the hour to let you know that they'd found them. One of the monsters had tried to attack the squad and had been shot in defense. It apparently didn't kill them because they had shot to maim, not to kill, which was fine. She was apparently their queen, and it was when she was detained that things got a little more... calm? If one could call the chaos calm. EMTs swept in to start assessing the situation. Queen Undyne, as she had been called by a few of the monsters, had finally calmed when a short, chubby nurse came to tend to her. It was strange, surely, but it would seem that the show of kindness from a _human_ had her stunned. Of course, she was going to be jailed for a night for assaulting a police officer, but you had been informed she'd likely be let off easy due to the fact that she was apparently trying to defend her people from the strange folks that just sort of appeared to them. The skeleton in your basement informed you that she should be put under the prison for all of the shit she'd done, but he was in no position to talk.

 

Apparently the monsters were brought to the base of the mountain where a disaster relief camp had been set up. Several tents had been erected in the time that the police and the medics had gone up to try and help these poor folks out. Here, they were given physicals and medical attention should they need it. A local soup kitchen had brought up enough food to serve the small smattering of monsters, but had enough food to give them seconds and thirds if they so wanted it.

 

You had been informed that they all needed trauma counseling and therapy, so they'd be up at the camp for a while. What they didn't tell you was the fence meant to keep them in and the locals out. It was for safety purposes. You told Clarkson about your... informant, but you wanted it kept quiet for the time being. You had caught him doing something desperate and you wanted to make sure he wouldn't do it again. You were working your fine blue line, and Clarkson was high up enough in the force to keep your ass clean in this situation.

 

So now, you were digging in your pantry for anything that might help fill up the skeleton's unseen stomach while he stood in the basement, leaning on his cuffs with a grand deal of frustration. He felt his magic pooling, and he felt more like his old self. He could easily shortcut back to check on Papyrus at least and be back here before you noticed, but he didn't want to risk error, so he'd wait. You had assured him his brother was in good hands, and the gentle way you said it with a sweet smile suggested you meant it.

 

“how did you convince them to help?” he asked when you reappeared to him with what looked like a pint of nice cream. But, that's not what the side said. It was something called Ben & Jerry's, and the fact that he recognized the leech's name made him gag. At least it tasted good, and you had been kind enough to cover the name to avoid a further reaction.

“I told them that you all were refugees, and basically told them what you told me without the whole... murdering people for their souls business. I think that probably would have made things a bit more tense, y'know?”

 

He made a note to inform everyone to not talk about breaking the barrier. It just happened by happy accident. Hell, he'd have to tell Undyne that, too, and he wasn't keen on it at all. But... maybe if he let her go down for it. It was well deserved at that point, wasn't it?

 

Scheming aside, he lifted his gaze to you while you fished out another swollen, soggy cherry from the bottom of the pint of Cherry Garcia you'd been carefully feeding him. He took in your features and the way your face screwed up with concentration as you dug around for the 'good shit' as you'd put it. It was okay, he guessed, but he'd much rather have something that had once been alive. The end of their stay in the underground had changed him, and his desperation sent him into the deep end, far enough that he was now drowning in his needs.

 

“you got a name, pig?” he questioned finally, looking down at the spoon as it came at him. He felt he was paying for raising his brother, this was embarrassing, but still, he opened his mouth and let you place the cold treat on his tongue so that he could swallow it down.

 

“Y/N, what about you? Guess I probably shoulda gotten that outta the way first, but, y'know, was kinda in shock to see you picking bones clean like you were eatin' chicken wings,” your nose wrinkled, lips drawn thin. Oh, disgust was cute on you too. Fuck.

 

“sans.... sans the skeleton. so, what, how did you get a full relief force up there being helpful? what kind of position in your society do you have?”

“Oh, I thought you knew? You've been calling me Pig all night so..”

“uh...” he squinted at you, his empty, black eye creasing a lot more than the blown, glowing light in the other. “no.”

“I'm a cop, a police officer,” you said, blinking in confusion. Wow, that was hurtful, you realized. He thought you were fat.

 

He actually didn't, he thought you were food, but you didn't know that. So, maybe it was better you thought he was calling you fat, seemed safer. You stared at each other for a long time before you looked down into the ice cream. Your cheeks had been stained red, and it confused him for a moment. It was as if you were quietly hating yourself, and the way your eyes glossed, it made him wonder if you were going to start crying. You didn't, however, shrugging off your upset like water off a duck's back, and it was... interesting to Sans. “So, you sat here trying to insult me and you didn't even know I was a cop?” you asked.

 

“well, yeah, you kinda have me chained in your basement, i think i'm well within my rights to be a dick, here,” he said, gesturing at you with his hands despite the fact that the bracelets prevented him from moving them from over his head. “sorry if you're offended, but i kinda feel like i got the shitty end of the stick, here.”

 

You guessed he was right, and offered a meek shrug. It wasn't personal, you decided, just that he was being defensive after being detained. You couldn't blame him for it, and you wouldn't, either. “Sorry,” you finally said, and watched him lean back away from you as if he didn't believe you until you locked eyes with him.

“i mean i guess i woulda been kinda tense if i saw a strange guy eating the neighbor's pet, too.” He couldn't bear that puppy face you gave him, it made him hungry, and it made him want to chase. But he couldn't do that. He had to play pretend. Eventually, he turned his head away from the spoon, deciding that you'd keep it and let him eat more later. He faked a yawn and stretched in a way that made you realize he was getting tired. You couldn't force him to stand up all night.

 

“Ok so, we're gonna make a deal here, alright? I'm gonna... get you off that pipe, but you have to stay here until I can figure out how to let this whole... dog eating thing skate by,” he was astonished you were trying to help him. “But, you can't touch me, you can't do anything, you just gotta... sit in this chair and--”

 

“and you'll cuff me lower?” he said with a knowing smile. “got a better idea for you, sweet face,” he said, pointing at the chair. “bring it over,” he watched as you obeyed, and you watched as he backed up to the wall and arched his arms backwards to let the cuffs follow the pipe downward. He waited for the chair to be under him before he sat and propped his legs out ahead of him. “you don't trust me, so here's this,” he said with a shrug while his fingers wrapped around the pipe. It was thinner here, he could break it, but you didn't seem to think so.

 

“Okay, see? We're workin' together. Teamwork makes the dream work,” you said, and he snorted at you a bit.

“alright, so you gonna let me sleep, then, piglet?” he questioned. Damn, back to that, you thought before sighing. You moved away towards the laundry room near by for a moment, and eventually reappeared with a blanket that you tossed over him. It was heavy, and he could tell you'd run it through the dryer because it was warm.

 

“Night, Sans the Skeleton,” you said before you drifted upstairs and closed the door.

 

 

Humans were weird, he thought to himself, but he waited a little longer until he could hear nothing but silence from you. With no risk of you coming downstairs, he shortcut away and to the base of the mountain. Lucky for him, he ended up right in the middle of camp in the bleak darkness. He saw the fences and immediately found himself angry that they were being quarantined. He knew why, though. You'd told him that everyone needed to be evaluated for their very specific needs, and he supposed he should be grateful.

 

But he wasn't, not entirely. They'd left one prison for another. He moved through the dark like he was part of it, following the scents of the place until he found his brother. Papyrus was settled on a cot, a coloring book draped across his lap. He seemed to be passing the time decently as he worked to stay within the lines of the odd, stain glass drawing against his thigh. “pap?”

“SA-”

“sh...sh, not so loud, no one needs to know i'm here,” he whispered, watching confusion paint across his brother's face.

“Where Were You? These Humans Are Really Nice!” Pap smiled foolishly, watching his brother come to settle next to him and wrap his arms around him. Was he shaking? Maybe a little, and that was why Papyrus put his things aside to hold his brother carefully. “Were You Afraid?”

“yeah, bro, i thought they were going to throw you guys back down there..”

“Nope, They Said A Nice Lady In Their Royal Guard Sent Them, Y/N I Think? They Called Her Officer, I Bet She's High Up!” Papyrus liked you and he hadn't even met you yet. Just being told that you were looking out for the whole group without even KNOWING them seemed to make his soul flutter a little. Sans offered him a weak smile, rubbing along his sibling's protruding spine.

“have they looked at your back, yet?” Sans asked softly, watching his sibling nod quickly.

“A Nurse Told Me They Were Asking A Dentist Up Here Too!” he said excitedly, pointing to his teeth. “They Have These Things Called Braces That Will Help, She Said,” he was happy, damn near glowing.

“did they feed you?”

“OF C-... Of Course,” he caught himself before he went too loud.

“a lot?”

“Loads,” the slender skeleton mused happily. “I've Never Been So Full In My Life! And My Magic's Coming Back, Too! I Turned An Officer Blue And He Thought I Was Quite Clever. His Name's Clarkson?”

“be nice to him, no traps, he's friends with Y/N.”

“He's Quite Old, For A Human. Didn't Know Their Head Fluff Turned White! Didn't Know They Got Face Fluff, Too.”

“it's called a mustache, bro.”

“I Want One,” Papyrus nodded simply. He frowned when Sans lifted to his feet. “Where Are You Going?”

“back to Y/N... she thinks i'm still in her basement, so, i'm gonna go back and cooperate, but before i go, bro, don't tell them how we broke the barrier. tell everyone to keep their mouths shut about the soul thing.”

“Why?”

“we're not going to jail for murder because we did what we had to, keep it quiet... i'll be back tomorrow night, wait for me. i want to know everything you hear from these people. be nice, but don't trust them fully.”

“'Course,” he said happily. “No Eating Them, Too, They Brought Me Spaghetti! It Was Way Better Than Mine.”

“no way, no chance, no ones's better than yours, pap.” He held his brother for a few moments longer, his soul hurting at the fact that this was the first in a long time they'd be apart for a while. “be safe.”

“You Too! I Want To Meet Y/N, Tell Her About Me?”

“pff, duh, you're like the coolest guy in this place, she'll fall head over heels for you.” And he believed that, too. His brother was the best. He squeezed Papyrus, and Pap squeezed back before he short cut back to your basement. It took a little angling to get the cuffs back onto his ulna, but he managed and magicked the blanket across him once again. He'd try to sleep but...

 

He didn't think he could.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The good shit is Ben & Jerry's, but he's unconvinced of this. Jerry's a dick.
> 
> Also Undyne's got a crush?
> 
> And my boy Papyrus is still a fucking cutey pie and I love him.
> 
> As per usual; if you wanna talk, make a request, or shoot me asks (which I love by the way, gives me an opportunity to draw the skelebutts for no raisin) visit mi dumblr <3  
> https://ahouseinthewoods.tumblr.com


	4. Let's Make A Deal...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sans decides to manipulate you a little.
> 
> Or a lot.

He'd been right. He hadn't been able to sleep. He stared into space thinking about how he could work several angles. Part of him wanted to see what all he could get away with, allowing you to keep him down there. If you were in a position of power, one that you were able to execute a search without raising suspicion about how you knew things, well, then he wanted to see how far that power went. He knew that after the last stint in the underground that normal food wouldn't cut it for him. There was more magic in human meat than there was in naturally occurring elements, and he was hooked in a most ungodly way.

 

That bloated red eye stared into space, watching as a cockroach made it's merry way across the floor and towards the window that gradually lit itself as the sun came up. Sans had heard you moving about long before this time, but it was distant and muffled as if this house had two stories. That wouldn't shock him at all, the neighborhood looked nice and most places seemed to be a double-decker house.

 

He leaned his head back to rest it against the pipe behind him with a look of discomfort. It was rare he got a crick in his neck, but hanging there all night was doing things to his joints. Sure, he lacked proper connective tissue, but he wasn't a young skeleton anymore, and he did have joint aches regardless. He reckoned it had something to do with magic, and going so long without. That dog had given him enough to know what it felt like again, and the love you put into feeding him...

 

No, that wasn't a good way to regain his strength, he decided. You had some bizarre thing about helping others and it bothered him. Humans weren't like that. Hell, it was the humans that trapped them down there in the first place! Your kindness had him growing more and more bitter as the moments passed, and when he heard you in the kitchen, it made him struggle against his binds.

 

He knew what he was going to do, now. He was going to out you for the greedy, self centered human that you were... And once he got out, he was going to thrust a finger in your direction and tell the world you'd held him hostage. He just... had to play the long game. He had to make you think his magic was able to make your wildest dreams come true, but first... first he had to know what those dreams were.

 

–

 

The smell of bacon and eggs wafted down the stairs of the open basement. You'd swept by a while ago to open the door and cut the light on. A cat had come to the bottom of the stairs to stare at Sans intently, only to have it's stare turned back around on it. There was an odd tension between the two when you finally came down and watched the cat sashay her fat ass back up the stairs. Spoiled brat. “Uh..... don't like cats?” you asked as you set a stool in front of him so that you could go about feeding him as you had last night.

 

“cats don't like me,” he responded, making a wet, slurping sound as if to suggest something, but when you heard the gulp you realized he was swallowing. Your curiosity got the better of you, and so you leaned up carefully to pull the neck of his shirt out just enough that----- Mother fucker bit you.

“HEY!”

“anyone ever look down your shirt? that's a bit rude, piglet. what are you lookin' for?” he was agitated, and you guessed he had a right to be. You crossed a line wanting to see his insides- or lack there of. There had, after all, been nothing there.

“I just... I'm sorry, I wanted to know how it worked,” you were embarrassed at your childishness, but ended up offering him food anyway. “I heard you swallowing.”

“oh, that,” he mumbled out, taking a bit of bacon as it was handed to him. His mind went blank for a moment, his eye cut out. He was still chewing, though, so you figured that he was still mentally there. There were a few moments of awkward, chew-filled silence before he uttered the groan of a man who hadn't had something really good in a long, long time. It radiated in his chest, a deep, baritone gurgle of pleasure somewhere deep, deep inside.

“Aheh, good stuff?” you questioned, watching the last bit of that single piece disappearing into his mouth. You watched drool rolling down his jaw now, and it made you wonder if it was too rich for him. You set the plate down on your stool and scooted to the laundry room to get a wash cloth to keep his face sorta clean while you fed him. When you came back, he was leaning over the stool, arms arched back behind him in a painful way as he fed himself, face down in the plate. You couldn't resist making the very apt comparison to a dog locked in a kennel most of it's life.

 

Was he a dog?

 

No.

 

You swallowed and draped the cloth over your shoulder, deciding to go fetch him something to drink because he was probably going to need it.

 

You didn't see him watching you, or notice he'd lifted his mouth out of the mess of food to watch you up the stairs. He licked his teeth gradually and thought about it. You wanted to see where it all went, if he had guts under his clothes. That wasn't greed, that was curiosity. He could still use it against you, though. When you came back down, the plate looked like it had gone through the washer, but his face still held breakfasty gore on his jaw. You moved the plate, set the cup down and moved forward with the cloth. “I'm gonna... uhm, please don't bite me, I'm gonna clean your face.”

 

He watched you, that single, crimson orb boring into your soul. He made you VERY nervous. No one made you nervous. It was the most bizarre feeling you had ever experienced. You were a police officer, you dealt with crazies before, and hell, he was even chained to your pipes, so why were you so nervous? He was just a hungry dog, doing whatever it took to feed the gnawing ache in his belly, right? You must have been making a series of face, because in a moment you caught him chuckling at your expense. “What's wrong?” you questioned, pulling the cloth away from his cheekbone.

 

“you look in deep concentration, don't hold strange people in your basement often? the set up makes me think otherwise,” he was teasing you, and you felt yourself give him a gentle shove before going back to cleaning his face.

 

He let you.

 

“do you live alone aside from the spoiled devil you have meandering about your house?” he questioned then, which made you pause. Why would he want to know? “i mean, don't know a lot about humans, but i know that they're not like monsters. you're in that age where humans start settling down and reproducing, right?” he said it so clinically that it made you laugh out.

 

“I mean, yeah, I am at that age, but I, I mean, I don't exactly have the job that would make it easy for me to settle down and have kids right now. I have to do too much.”

“like what?” he countered and watched your reaction.

 

You drew the cloth back again, staring into space before fretting with the end of the cloth. “Well, I... my dad was on homicide, he did investigations to help people solve major crimes and give people closure. I... I really want to help people,” you finally announced. Well that was interesting. He looked down at your chest in thought, and catching him, you covered yourself in your house robe. “Why are you staring?”

“wondering what color your soul is,” he said simply with a shrug of his shoulders.

“I don't know how folks did it where you're from, buster brown, you don't need to be thinking about what color my soul is,” you said bluntly, feeling as if in some way that was personal information anyway. Intimate, even.

 

“hey, you wanted to see under my shirt, i should be allowed to wonder what your soul looks like,” he commented, pointing at you from over his head.

“I guess that's fair.”

“you can look, if you want. but, y'know, maybe next time you want to peek at somethin' on me, ask first and i'll letcha no problem,” he said with a shrug. He leaned back, his hips arching forward, his shirt riding up where his belly would have been. “that, and, yanno, going through the neck is a little weird. hike my skirt if you want to.”

 

Did he HAVE to talk like this? Was he trying to get a rise out of you with his phrasing? You sighed heavily and reached to take the end of his shirt, realizing he shuddered under your touch. How long had it been since he had someone else even barely brush across him? You lifted your gaze to look at him and watched how his eye watched, not your face, but your hands. You eased up the shirt and sure enough, there was nothing. There wasn't even any food. He tightened up greatly when your hand went into the empty cavity, but upon doing so, it felt heavy, like you'd put your hand into a warm fog in the summer.

 

“Uhm..”

“food... nnh.. goes right to my magic. some things are stronger than others. you gave me meat today,” he pointed out, shivering, “and eggs--- would you mind moving your h...hand, that--”

“OH! I'm so sorry,” you pulled your hand free, biting your lip. You weren't sure what to make of his noises, but if you had to guess--

 

No, Y/N, too early in the morning to be thinking about that. “I uh... I gotta go to work, but I'll be back with lunch, it's a h...half day,” you said, pulling away from him. You hesitated at the stairs and glanced back to him. “If I just cuffed one arm, would you be more comfortable?” you were worried?

 

“uh... yeah, one arm being able to rest is better than both arms being up,” he responded. He watched you cross to get your keys. The look you gave him screamed 'no funny business,' and he shrugged as if to tell you he wouldn't dream of it. Neither of you trusted each other.

 

“what's your position in your work?” the question was quiet as you unlocked one of his ulna and snapped the bracelet around the pipe instead.

“Special Victims,” you responded quietly.

“which deals in...?”

“Cases like yours, your people's, missing persons, rape victims, child abuse, things like that.”

“and here you thought you weren't helping people...”

“Not like I want to be.”

“what if I could help you?” he was setting the trap. The fact that you looked at him while drawing your hands back suggested you were interested. He lowered his loose arm to give it a gentle rotation at his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” There it was.

“fun thing about magic is i don't have to do much in order to use it. now, while i'm on the low end right now, it wouldn't take me much, or very long, to regain it and grant you whatever you want... for a price.” He shrugged at you and you narrowed your eyes at him.

 

“A price?”

“oh, everything has a price. you humans want something for nothing, it's kind of funny,” he said with a grin wrapping his face. He was very good at being superficially charming, even though he looked like he was off his rocker.

“What kind of a price?”

“you know what i need, i already told you about how soul magic works in humans,” he purred to you. The look of horror made what little magic he had pool in his gut... or lack there of. His bones felt an odd tingling that he hadn't felt in a long time. He decided he'd make this easier for you, leaning forward to gaze up into your face pleadingly. “i'm not asking you to kill anyone,” yet... give him time. “but, what i'm asking is maybe a little blood donation,” he said, letting his gaze drop down to where he'd bit your hand.

“You... want me to give you my blood,” you whispered softly.

“i'm not a picky skeleton, Y/N, i'll take what i can get. you've already been unknowingly feeding me magic with certain actions, but i can get more like my old self if you can spare a little,” he offered.

“C...can I think about it?”

“oh! of course you can think about it. i'm not gonna force you,” he said with a broad smirk. “not exactly in the position to force anything chained up like this.”

 

He had a point.

“Okay, I'll think about it, then. If you help me, I'll … help you, right? I'll just... I just gotta think about it.”

“have a good day at work,” he said sweetly. “oh, and, thanks for breakfast...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so maybe a lot. Reader really oughta stop volunteering information to a psycho basement boyfriend.
> 
> Wanna keep in touch? Wanna give me a holler? Wanna keep in the know about what's goin' on in some of these fics?  
> https://ahouseinthewoods.tumblr.com
> 
> Meet me at my Tumblr. I'd love to hear from you <3


	5. Having a Snoop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans pokes around your house on the downlow.

Sans listened and watched the top of the stairs while you went about the arduous task of getting ready for the day. He made note of what a police uniform looked like from what he could see, straining in order to see you longer than just a second. It was interesting, you seemed kind of bothered, concerned even. It made him wonder how difficult your job was that made you seem so anxious. You muttered another goodbye before leaving. He could hear your car start and pull out, and in a moment, he shortcut out of the cuffs. He made sure to snap them open so that he could slip back into them when he was done with his exploration.

 

Those rickety bones creaked and rattled as he made his way up the stairs of the basement, listening carefully to how the boards groaned under his weight. He was by no means a small individual, and there was no doubt that he'd hit every step on the way down when you drug him down here. Which made him wonder; how DID you get him down here? How long had he been out before he woke from his stupor? Questions like these he hadn't asked simply because you had jumped right into interrogating him the moment he'd opened his eye.

 

But now, now he was considering what had happened and how long it took you to set up the downstairs to hide a body. He also wondered how long it would take him to get you to do it again. The idea made him salivate a bit as he turned at the top of the stairs to get a good look at the place. For being a two-story building, it was relatively compact. From the inside it made him think of those quaint little townhomes that had been in the Capital before the whole underground went to pot. You were meticulous about how clean things were, and for a moment he wondered what your pay was like. Hell, if you got paid more for Homicide, would you have a bigger house?

 

He wasn't certain why that was on his mind, but his thoughts were scattered and askew. He lifted a hand to rake along his empty socket while he took a look around your hard-wood livingroom. He paused at the top of the stairs, thinking about it before he slipped out of his shoes so that he left no scuffs on the floor. Walking in just socks, he could get away with a whole lot more. You'd never know he was up here.

 

He rounded the back of a brown leather sofa, studying the red hound's tooth blanket folded over the arm of the couch. Running his digits along the back of the couch, he felt how buttery the leather was, and realized that it must have been overly comfortable. His eye lifted to the window and studied the heavy drapes that matched everything else. Between the drapes, the blinds were closed and he was somewhat relieved for that. He saw the tell tale sign of a long fluffy tail curling left and right. He could hear the chittering of the cat talking to the birds and he wondered if the hellion would successfully catch what it was making noises at if he let it out.

 

He shouldn't do that, though.

 

Sans eyed the television that was situated, mounted in a blocky entertainment center nearest the fireplace. He thought it was odd, he'd only seen monitors like that back home, and they were typically for computers simply built into the wall. He lowered his gaze from the television to the fireplace itself, noting that it was blocked off. Due to it being summer, he had doubts you'd need to keep yourself warm at night. It was muggy when he was outside last.

 

The cat must have heard him shuffling about, because her fat head poked out from between the shades to look at him, and as he made his way to the kitchen, the opportunistic leech followed him and started mewing. Fat as it was, Sans suspected that it was over-fed and heavily spoiled. He didn't mind the company, he decided. He could keep fattening the damn thing up and eat it later if worse came to worse. He opened the fridge thoughtfully and, seeing how stocked it was, took back his thoughts on eating this kitty. “no wonder you're fat, puss,” he uttered, hearing the cat mewing at him and grinding her face into his leg. He groaned and lowered to pick the cat up, draping the fluffy thing over his shoulder where it dangled like a child. He squat down to get a better look at everything and found his stomach gurgling. You would notice if he ate too much, even if it was something to hold him over. He zeroed into something that you made yourself, and reached inward to grab the Tupperware container to look inside.

 

His soul ached. It was Spaghetti. Just seeing it made him miss Papyrus all the more, but it was in the middle of the day so he couldn't go and check on his sibling. The cat bat the back of his head with her tail ,and then her paw to try and catch the tail, but he ignored it. Would you notice if he picked a few meatballs out from the bottom? Surely not. And so after fishing out three, he placed them into his mouth and covered the food once again. He could sneak just about anything, and once it was back where he found it, exactly how he found it, he closed the door and moved to the stairs that lead up towards the second floor.

 

The whole while, the cat hung on him, seeming to appreciate the attention, which, again, he didn't mind. The fluffy thing was softer than he had originally thought it was, and so he rather liked the way the puffy fur rested against his bones. Hell, she was even purring, so that made things better for him. He tried every door he passed, and each one was unlocked. First door at the top of the stairs was the bathroom. It was modest in size, and clearly meant for someone who lived alone. He stepped inside and felt suddenly closed in, but ignored the odd claustrophobia that was caused by being a monster in a human's world.

 

The sink dipped inward and had an odd, shell-shaped pattern to it, and it made him wonder if it was custom or just came with the house. It was sort of dated. The bath tub was connected to the floor and had a shower attached, and just across from that, a toilet. There was a linen closet in here, too, he noted, and opening it up he saw what one would expect; towels, toiletries and cleaning products.

 

“where does mom keep her interesting tidbits, puss?” he questioned, earning a lick to the side of the head as the cat suddenly decided it was time to groom him. He didn't mind that, but the sandpaper tongue against his head sent sounds into his skull that made him cringe a bit. Wasn't worse than having your head skewered by a harpoon, however, so he didn't gripe.

 

Out of the bathroom he went and down the hall to the next room. It was a spare, and based on the fact that there was a desk in here, you'd made it your office. He looked around, half expecting a conspiratorial cork board full of red-yarn 'connecting the dots' to one side. Nothing, though. You did keep a file cabinet, that, by the look of it was locked. He could pick them, sure, but he preferred to get into them when you were more vulnerable. After all, if he picked something now, it would simply be too noticeable. He did, however, look over your desk at the amount of open cases you might have had there. Just one folder, and based on what he could see it was missing person's.

 

Aliza? Well...wasn't that interesting.

 

He pulled out of the room and shut the door behind him before he meandered lazily down to the final room in the hallway, your bedroom. He stood in the doorframe once he'd opened the door and found himself hit with your scent immediately. The rest of the house smelled like scented candles; waxy and yet still scented. This room, on the other hand, was not quite covered by the same waxy perfume that permeated the rest of the house. The cat hopped down and flopped lamely on the bed to watch him. It was as if the feline was trying to seduce him in some way. It would have worked if he didn't know how cats worked. He knew that if he pet her she would imbed her claws into him. While that wouldn't hurt him, it would be annoying and hard to get away from, so he avoided it for the time being.

 

The smell of the room had his soul grating against his ribs. He wasn't sure why this sensation was so intense, and yet, here he was, snooping around. He opened the door to the closet, looked at the odd clothes inside that matched nothing and varied in style. “she doesn't even know who she is, does she, puss? is she that young?” he asked with a scratch to his chin. Things seemed less clean in your closet, things just kind of thrown inside and cluttering the floor of it. He closed it and then moved towards your chest of drawers to look in to see if these were organized.

 

Shock and awe, they weren't.

 

“woman right out of my heart, she's a secret slob,” he said with a shake of his head, shutting the drawers before he moved to settle on the edge of your bed. The mattress was soft, far softer than anything that he'd ever been near, and it gave him pause. He carefully ran a hand over the cushion and turned his attention to your alarm clock. He'd been exploring for two hours. You said you were working a half-day and that you'd be done by noon. It was only eight at this point. He considered napping up here, the cat was already getting comfy cozy. It took him a moment before he laid back against the bedding on the side he decided wasn't yours. Still, the fact that your scent was clogging up his mind was maddening.

 

He fell asleep, basking in the warmth and comfort of a bed for the first time in nearly sixty years.

 

–

 

You came home at noon as you had said you were going to, more than pleased to find that everything was alright. You opened the door and called out so that your guest could hear you, “I'm home!”

 

“welcome home, ricki,” he called from the basement. You had brought home some food, and of course donuts because your cop card would be revoked if you didn't like donuts. You stopped at the top of the stairs, able to see the tops of his feet from your angle. He'd kicked his shoes off and tucked them under the stool in front of him while his legs propped up on top. He'd propped them atop the blanket that you had left for him

“You okay?”

“i'm chained in a basement and have a growth,” he answered, which made you blink a few moments. “did you think about it?” he called.  
“Y..yeah, I'm gonna give you a little of my blood, but I gotta eat first so that I'll have something building back up, okay?” you called as you set your stuff down. “I'll bring you something to hold you over if you want.”

“mmm sounds fine by me, piglet,” he answered. As you came down the stairs with your burger and donut, you paused to find that your cat was sprawled across the legs he had stretched out on the stool. He lifted his legs enough that you could take your stool, which you did, and he held the cat enough that she didn't roll off as his feet rested on the floor again.

“So this is your Growth.”

“guess she got a little bonely...”

“Hah... good one.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Sans befriends a cat that hates him.


	6. Dining In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you have a burg with your... uh... room mate, and he takes a bite outta you.
> 
> Oh also, you've graduated from "Piggy".

You had settled in on your stool across from Sans and gave him the extra burger you'd gotten for him. Yet, he hadn't touched it yet despite the fact that you were half-way through your own. Your cat had abandoned you both a while ago, no doubt to go hunting birds again. It was her sport, and who were you to take it away from her? Just the person who opened her cans of food. Still, if she was 'hunting for sport,' she wasn't down here begging either of you for food, which was fine.

 

Sans, you noticed, was sort of odd when it came to food. Yes, he was hungry, starved even, yet he was calm enough and watched you eat as if it were the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. You imagined you got similar expressions on your face when you watched The Twilight Zone... Perhaps not the best comparison, you weren't as entertaining to watch as The Twilight Zone, in your opinion. Sans, however, watched you, took in every little detail of your face, the way your cheeks dimpled slightly when you chewed or opened your mouth. Were you not convinced that he was contemplating how you were going to taste, you'd think it to be a little more romantic.

 

But he was thinking about the blood you had promised him. He was thinking about the coppery sweetness that you no doubt had, and his mouth was watering while his unseen gut turned and twisted hungrily under his clothes.

 

“I'm sorry for making you wait,” you said suddenly, which made him lift his gaze from your mouth to your eyes. At least he respected you enough to make eye contact when you spoke to him. That was more than could be said of half of the men you worked with. It was hard, being a woman on the force. Most of the boys in the bull pin didn't look at you as much because they were all older and had come from eras where women were to be seen and not heard. It was 1986, damn it, and you were going places! Sans was even going to help, wasn't he?

 

How, you weren't sure...

 

“don't worry about it, i'm used to waitin'. don't think it's gonna hurt me to wait a few more minutes for you to eat. besides, like you said, you got somethin' with iron in it to build back up after i take a bit,” he was relaxed about it, as if he could tell you were nervous. How was this going to go down, exactly? Was it like... a vampirism thing?

 

No, that was silly, he was a monster, not a vampire, those... couldn't exist, right? Your mind lingered on the question for a few moment before you took another big bite from your burger, regarding him with a low hum. “I dunno, I just feel like it's probably pretty boring down here.”

“i mean, it's kind of entertaining to watch you eat. y'don't realize it, but you make this face when you swallow, like you're afraid of choking to death or somethin'.”

 

You paused. Did you make a face? “I might be rushing through it a little,” you admitted, “and that might mean I'm taking bigger bites.”  
“slow your roll, s'not like i'm goin' anywhere, piggy.”  
“Can you call me something less... I dunno, mean?” you asked suddenly, which took him by surprise. He didn't seem to realize he was still calling you 'piggy' as opposed to, well, anything else.

“well, what would you prefer?”

“My name, for one,” you countered and he waved a hand at you dismissively.

“no fun in that... i'll think of somethin' proper and less... mean, i guess.” At least he was willing to put forth the effort, which you were somewhat relieved by. You had a feeling he'd give you a food name, though, given the situation...

 

Behind that swollen red eyelight you could tell he was thinking it over, mulling through his shoddy memory for something that would be suitable to you. He took in the way your bound hair was falling, undoubtedly due to the amount of stress you were put under in a day. He watched how your eyes lowered and stared down at your food as if you were contemplating something deep and meaningful before you opted to take a bite.

 

You heard him swallow, which was bizarre as you couldn't rightfully see it happening. You lifted your gaze up to him and he seemed suddenly particularly stiff. “You okay?”

“hm?” he was trying to play it off- badly but the attempt was there.

“I dunno you just seem uncomfortable,” you offered him at length. Slowly, his head tipped to one side, hanging against his shoulder while he watched you go on about chewing. There was something owlish in the way he looked at you, unblinking, unyielding, and yet all too suddenly that eyelight halved and a somewhat smug expression passed his skeletal features.  
  


“do i come off as uncomfortable? m'sorry, but it would seem my hand is cuffed to a pipe. based on the warm feelin' i get from it occasionally, gonna bet it belongs to the bath,” he followed your gaze up briefly though immediately focused in on your face. He liked when you weren't looking at him, he wasn't entirely sure why.

 

You took the final bite of your burger and sucked your fingers clean before you lifted up carefully so as to look up at the pipe in thought. “I think so, yeah,” you finally said before looking down at him. “So uh... how do we do this, exactly?” You noted he hadn't touched the burger, and when you realized how hard he was looking at you now, it made you wonder if he was waiting until after... well...

 

“well, i think you ought to ask yourself if you'd like to pick a spot yourself and cut, or if you want me to pick a spot and bite,” he answered simply, settling back against his seat. He let his eyes rake over your body, already aware of where he wanted to bite, but he'd keep it to himself. “i mean, if you let me do the job myself, you'll have to do something to make it easier for me.”

 

“What do you mean, exactly?” you questioned him softly, brows knit with a concerned look on your face.

“well, i can't exactly get to you when i'm chained by my wrist to this pi--”

“I'm not letting you loose, Sans,” you said stiffly and watched the way he lifted his hands in mock surrender.

“m'not sayin' that, but you are a resourceful lady, i figure you'd be able to keep me down here in your own way, but maybe not keep me in this chair,” he offered with a little shrug of his shoulders.

“Yeah, no, I'm going to cut myself and you deal,” you said while disappearing up the stairs once more. He watched you with a hum under his breath. You didn't trust him enough for that it would seem. That was fine, he could deal with it. You reappeared some time later, having changed out of your uniform and into something that wouldn't be ruined if a little of your own blood got on it. He got a nice view of your legs, but you were testing the sharpness of the knife you got out of the kitchen on your thumb as you meandered downstairs you didn't even catch his gaze.

 

You were about to slice your wrist when he shot up a bit to stop you. “hey, now,” he said, lifted fully to tower over you. It startled you how quickly he'd stopped you, and more than that, the fact he'd stopped you at all.

“Thought you wanted this?”

“you could lose your job if someone sees a scar there,” he pointed out simply, “m'tryin' to help your situation, not hurt it,” he expressed with an easy grin on his face. As much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. You dropped your hands at your side, carefully turning the knife in the palm of your hand.

 

“Okay, so, where?” you questioned bluntly.

“i would suggest somewhere you typically have covered,” he moved closer to you, though with his arm held by the pipe, he didn't get as close as he probably would have liked. “you know, no one's going to clock you for self harm if they can't see.”

 

You watched him stiffly for a moment, looking down your frame a moment. You thought about your chest but realized how intimate that would be. Hell, anywhere that wasn't your wrists would be. Shit. You lowered to sit down, still fingering the handle of your knife, thinking about it. This was so awkward. This was more awkward than your first kiss when you were fourteen. This was...

 

This was bizarre.

 

But you knew you wouldn't get anywhere without this... monster's magic. He'd already proved he could do a few things in your favor. You sucked in air and tugged up your shirt to show the tops of your legs. Sacrifices had to be made to get places, right? You knew it was going to hurt a lot, and he seemed interested in the fact that you were hesitating. After a moment or so you picked your left leg and held the knife over it. You were shaking, when did you start shaking? You let out a yelp of surprise when you found his long hand coiling over yours.

 

“if you're too nervous to do it...”

“N—no, because you might stab me,” you reasoned, and he laughed, a deep, thunderous timbre that echoed in your basement. He lowered himself to kneel in front of you, leaning very close into your atmosphere.

  
“if i wanted you dead, i would have broken this cuff by now. it's within my wheelhouse to do,” he took the knife carefully, pressing it against the top of your thigh. “but the way you're shaking you'll make mince of your leg.” He ran the blade against your thigh, and it was so quick and smooth, you barely felt it. It made you wonder how he'd managed that, but before you could ask, he'd tossed the knife away to prove he wasn't going to stab you. His mouth closed on your thigh and you found your breath catching in your throat.

 

His mouth was a lot warmer than you thought it would be, and the way his tongue rolled against the wound he'd made brought heat to your face, and a coiling in your gut. With the hand unbound by the wall, he braced your back. He must have felt you leaning away, and due to the fact the seat you'd taken was on the stool? You could have easily fallen away from him. That would have been unfortunate, he wouldn't want to drag you back by your ankles--- or maybe he would. Your breath became shaky with each gradual stroke of his tongue against the now stinging wound. It seemed that it was purposefully splitting it wider to get it to bleed further. It ached, and you found your leg stretching out slightly. He shifted just slightly so that your leg could drape over his hip comfortably while he drank deeply from your thigh.

 

You'd be a liar if you said that something about this was bringing you to an edge you didn't think you had. The way he soberly lapped at your skin. He occasionally used his teeth to urge more blood to the surface of the wound without fully biting you, and those shockingly feather light nibbles caused jolts of electricity to shoot up and down your spine like a firework going off in your head. Before you could catch the pleased sigh that built up in your chest, it escaped your lips and you found him pausing his actions to look up at you.

 

“oh, did we find a hidden kink?” he questioned lowly, keeping his face far enough away that you would be able to see that long, blackened tongue against your thigh. How long was it? How far could it reach? In that moment you realized it was however long he wanted it to be, and that heat dropped in your gut again. “i think so,” he could smell you, but he was clearly not going to help your need. That wasn't the deal, after all. You were feeding him to get ahead in life, not to get off.

 

Maybe at a later date he'd add that into your little agreement, because he'd be lying if he said that he didn't like the way you tasted, and the natural way your body reacted to his actions.

 

“Shut up,” you uttered a little more breathlessly than you anticipated. He chuckled to you and pressed his mouth over the wound again. More blood spilled freely into his mouth, and you found yourself leaning over him a little. Why? Because you were getting light headed. “H---how much have you taken?”

 

“gettin' tired out?” he questioned against your thigh. There was a strange sting as he ran his tongue along your thigh one last time. You could feel your flesh stitching back together in a somewhat painful fashion. Your breath must have hitched, because you felt him give your ankle a little squeeze to force you to keep still. Maybe it was comforting, or meant to be, but it stopped your leg from pulling away from his touch. When finally he pulled away from your skin, settled back against the wall, you saw the scar he'd left in his wake. Had he healed you?

 

Yes. Yes he had. It was funny how much magic your soul poured through your blood. He almost felt high from it. It was bizarre. He'd be lying if he said that being that close to your need hadn't gotten him excited, but he had to play his cards right lest you be offended at his actions.

 

“thanks... puddin',” yeah, that suited you, he thought. With thighs as thick as yours and as rich as you tasted, it was damn near perfect.

 

“Puddin'?”

“yup, puddin'. don't like that?”

“No, s'not that, it just kinda makes me think of my nickname in highschool. I was kinda chubby.”

“to be fair, in some places you still are, but i like it, so,” a shrug was offered as he looked at the heat rolling across your features with a sort of smug satisfaction.

“So.. what now?”

“leave the rest to me. it'll... take a night, so just kinda go about the rest of your day like you would.” He watched you hesitating to get up.

“Do you... uhm...”

“m'just gonna eat this burger you brought me and catch a nap, so don't worry about me, pud, i'll be around, can't really go anywhere.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You are now Puddin', congratulations!

**Author's Note:**

> SURPRISE!
> 
> Did you guess it? Probably, probably not, who knows? Here's your cupcakes anyway, cupcakes <3
> 
> You know the drill by now, darlin's! You wanna keep updooted, find art for the story, or hell, have some chats with me? You know what to do!:  
> https://ahouseinthewoods.tumblr.com


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